


Not Quite Right

by fallingoverfeelz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, Cunnilungus, F/M, Fingering, Girl!Stiles, Lots of Sex, M/M, Magic, Multi, Orgies, Other, Witch - Freeform, also werewolves exist, except lydia, genderbent!Stiles, im bad at tagging, masturbation of various kinds, mention of a dildo, probably over gratuitious use of the word "pussy", slut!stiles, spell, the female characters are really there only in passing, they will happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 14:19:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2776154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingoverfeelz/pseuds/fallingoverfeelz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he sees himself in the mirror he smiles. He’s all pouty red lips and big, dewy brown eyes. His moles are still there and he’s thankful because he’s actually always liked them. The bra makes his boobs look great and the shirt drapes over them just right, showing a little midriff. The jeans hug his curves perfectly and all-in-all he would definitely fuck himself if that was possible.</p><p>And he’s been thinking- scheming more like. His desires haven’t settled, he still wants it. Them. The pack. And this makes things indefinitely easier.</p><p> He decides he’ll start with Scott.</p><p>(a.k.a. the one where Stiles is turned into a girl and wants dick more than ever)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite Right

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! So, I got this fic idea from someone who posted on Kinkyfic's tumblr (http://kinkyfics.tumblr.com/post/104858025028/i-know-youre-not-taking-prompts-but-im-a-huge) - and I was inspired. It wasn't supposed to be this long, I promise. But I should have known myself better. 
> 
> And ya know what, it's not even plotty(don't expect much of that) ?? What in the hell did I write so much of??? Whatever. 
> 
> **Side Note**: The sexual scenes switch to the pronouns she/her/hers because Stiles thinks of himself as a girl in sexual/sexy moments or events once the change happens. It switches back to him/he/his soon after because he still thinks of himself as a boy. Except in like, some short vignette scenes, where he keeps the him/he/his. I dunno, just stick with the idea of him being fluid with his pronouns and all will work out. 
> 
> Also, I'm not entirely sure if I should continue?? I had fun writing this, and I have a thing for packslut!Stiles, but should I keep going with the other pack boys? Or just leave it at this? I'll leave it as a standalone for now if so, but let me know!! 
> 
> Also, feel free to leave comments, and if you see any mistakes please let me know and I'll try to fix them! Please enjoy :).

It just doesn’t feel right.

 

He knows this is bordering on obsessive, how much he does this now that it’s summer and he actually has the time. How many times he opts out of events to lock himself in his room and take out the dildo he had saved up for. How much he enjoys slicking himself up until he’s sloppy with lube and dips his fingers inside his own heat, clenching down on himself until he cries out in frustration because it just isn’t _enough_. He pounds himself with it, his skin fevered and red, mouth hung open and empty and he’s crying out into a pillow in a mix of pleasure and frustration as he fucks himself- he’s worked his way up to ten inches- but it’s never enough. It never feels like its hitting right place even when it’s as deep as it can go, and even when it hits his prostate and he hardly touches himself to make himself come it's never satisfying. It’s never good enough.

 

But it’s never just that- no, there are plenty of guys who like ass play that don’t have anything wrong with them- but it’s never just his ass.

 

He scolds himself with how wrong it is to want to be fucked so bad- to be ok with having multiple guys use him until they’re done, pleasure him with their cocks in his holes. He hates how much he wants it- he has sex dreams now, has been having them for the past while. He doesn’t even imagine himself though- well, yeah, it’s him, but not _him_. The Stiles in his dreams is devoid of a cock, a wet, slippery pussy between his legs in its stead. He has tits that bounce whenever they push into him.

 

And, ya know, it’s fine when it’s Derek and Boyd, Jackson and Danny, all people he knew but wasn’t super close with. It was fine when he would imagine them inside of him, with their mouths on his non-existent breasts, cocks plowing his wet pussy, sating his hunger, taking pleasure from their bodies. But it’s Scott too- he imagines kissing his best friend, tongues tangling as Scott’s hands grab his breasts and squeeze, his fingers opening him up. He hates himself for how much he wants Scott’s mouth on him, a part of him that he doesn’t even have, how much he wants to taste Scott’s cock and then fill himself up with it. And it’s getting bad, sometimes he daydreams when he’s with Scott and though the boy may be oblivious at times, Scott isn’t stupid. He knows something’s up.

 

But still, sometimes, when he’s alone, he finds himself sticking his fingers in his mouth, rolling the wetness of his tongue around them and sucking deep and hard, gagging himself on them. He imagines it’s a thick, hard cock that’s weighing heavy and hot on his tongue. Imagines that it’s the head of that dick pressing against the back of his throat as he gasps for air and whines for it.

 

He pinches his nipples till they’re hard and red, thinking of the girls in the porn that he’s watched but not because he wants them, but because he wants the heft of breasts on his chest. He wants to be able to cup himself and squeeze his own tits with his hands, play with his nipples. He wants to be able to feel strong hands massaging his tits and suckling from him. He so often finds himself feeling the phantom sensation of wetness from his hole whenever he’s aroused, and _god_ he’s always horny. It’s always so odd, like his mind knows what it wants but his body can’t, it just _can’t_.

 

He wants so badly to feel the subtle curve of his form when he runs his hands down his body instead of the blocky boy body he has right now, wants to be able to slip fingers into himself and find that spot so easily, play with his clit until he’s screaming and writhing and losing it until he comes. He knows that porn bodies aren’t real life, and he knows that porn sex isn’t real sex, but god he’s so fucking _jealous_.

 

And sometimes, he looks at himself in the mirror, trying to imagine what he’d look like if he was a girl. Fuller lips, curvaceous form, the rise of breasts from his chest, slender legs, the aching, warm place between his thighs.

 

His skin always feels wrong.

 

It just doesn’t feel _right_.

 

***

 

It happens a few weeks after that night. They’ve been chasing down a witch who has been changing people into monsters for some reason or another. They think she’s trying to get some kind of army together to take over Beacon Hills.

 

They’ve finally got her cornered and Scott goes in for the kill, Derek following close behind, but before Scott can get in the killing strike the bitch mumbles some words and lets loose a spell, flowing from her hand, bright and burning with energy. It shoots off in Lydia’s direction and in a split second he runs and jumps in front of her, pushing her out of the way. The spell hits him straight on, and it burns when it makes contact. His skin is tight and itchy almost immediately and he can feel it doing it’s damage- whatever the fuck she had made it do- can feel it stretching inside and over him, running its course inside of his veins and making him breathe flames.

 

He passes out from the pain with a strangled cry.

 

***

 

When he starts to wake up his mind feels heavy and his body even heavier. The first thing he notices, before anything else, is how dry his throat is. He makes some kind of strangled sound that must be translated into a plea for help by whoever is in the room, since soon a straw is placed against his lips and he takes long, greedy sips. It burns going down at first, but with his thirst slaked he can finally start waking up.

 

“Stiles?” A voice says, and it’s Scott’s. Stiles coughs a few times before wrenching his eyes open with the utmost effort. It’s an Olympian task, and a hand that feels larger than usual to be Scott’s lands on his shoulder to stop him from pushing himself up too far once he starts to try to rise. He groans at the soreness of his form and frown when he looks at Scott. His best friend is seated right next to him, a strange look of confusion and fear evident in his brown eyes.

 

He looks around and notices that they’re in his room, sunlight filtering through his window. He’s under the covers of the bed, and he looks at the shape of his legs through the blanket, moving them a little to make sure they’re fine.

 

“Scott, dude, what happened?” He hears a voice asked with his words. He furrows his brows, looking around for the source of it. It sounds sort of familiar, but it was odd that someone had said the words he was thinking of.

 

“Is Lydia in here or something?” He asks- but there it is again, that voice that doesn’t belong to him saying his words. He wonders if something is going on, trying desperately to figure it out in his head, but his mind still isn’t back up to 100%.

 

“Stiles, dude- I mean- dude? Can I still say that?” Scott asks, and it’s adorable how confused he looks.

 

“Scott, what? What happened? Since when is it not okay to call me dude?” He defiantly pushes himself up, and winces when there’s a short snap of pain on his chest.  “And that voice!” He flails, hands flying. “Who’s voice is th-“

 

And then it hits him- the voice seems so recognizable because it’s _his_. Yeah, he’s not use to analyzing his own voice but there it is, coming from his lips. Lighter, higher, the tone a little clearer, but it’s almost undeniably his. One of his hands had stopped in front of his face and he lets his gaze fall to it, observes a part of him he thought he knew better than anyone.

 

But, it’s different. His hand, that is. This new one still has his long fingers, but they’re not as thick now, thin and slender instead. His gaze falls and he finds the entirety of his hand to be smaller, attached to a much more slender arm than before. He flips his hand and his palm is devoid of the rough edges and calluses of before, soft, pale skin adorns his hand now.

 

“Scott?” He asked, glaring. Scott has the decency to look sheepish. “What happened?”

 

“Um, well, we were fighting this witch and-“

 

“Yeah, I know that much, Scottie.” He says, starting to breathe heavy. “She did her spell thing and I jumped in front of Lydia and it hit me- but _what did it do?_ ”

 

He sees Scott visibly gulp, his skin going red.

“It… turnedyouintoagirl.” He admits, letting the words tumble from his lips.

 

And for a moment he wants to ask for Scott to repeat it, but the boys words already confirm his suspicious. He doesn’t waste time pushing the covers from his form and bouncing up from his bed, stumbling when he stands and isn’t that a fucking _hoot_ because now his center of gravity is different, he ignores Scott’s protests and runs into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door before snapping on the light.

 

And there he is. Or, she, maybe.

 

Yup. That’s him. Definitely him. But also definitely a girl.

 

His face has softened- no more harsh angles and lines, he still has his prominent jaw but its softer now, curved and much more subtle. His eyes are bigger, brighter, lips having morphed into a full bow of pink. His hair is longer, down to his shoulders now, dark brown and wavy. His neck is slender, Adam’s apple gone, and the hollow of his throat dives down underneath his shirt and _holy fuck_ -

 

He has boobs. Actual, real life boobs. And now that he pays attention, he can feel the gentle weight of them on his chest. He stares at them for a long while, someone had covered him up in a huge t-shirt and basketball shorts which were barely clinging to his hips, so they’re covered, but still there. He takes a deep breath and watches as they rise along with it, and immediately decides to take off his clothes to inspect himself fully- might as well rip the bandage off fast.

 

He slips off the shirt and the shorts, and his eyes widen at his now female body- his breasts are tipped by dusky pink nipples, and no, they aren’t the super perky ones he’s seen in porn. They’re not huge- he actually has no way of estimating a size, with no previous knowledge of measuring his own boobs, but they don’t sag, but they sit as he guesses most breasts actually do- naturally. Cautiously, with baited breath and clenched jaw, he brings up a slender hand to cup his right breast and immediately lets out a small groan. He holds it in his palm and squeezes the softness of it, round and supple in his fingers. He brushes a nipple with his thumb and a gasp leaves his lips with the sensation of it. He lets his hand fall- refusing to get carried away while he’s doing this- and watches as it bounces slightly before settling.

 

His hips have gotten wider, he’s still the thin little thing that he was before, but he has _curves_ now, round thighs that taper into long, slender legs. And there, between said legs, is his very own, personal, vagina. There’s the soft dusting of pubic hair that inevitably leads to it, but he takes a moment to absorb the fact that he has a _vagina_ now.

 

That’s… a lot.

 

He spreads his legs into an open stance and tries to get a better look at it, bending his body at weird angles to try and looks but quickly discovers that’s he’s probably gonna have to get a hand mirror or something to do this with any sort of dignity. So, he decides to opt for running his hand down his now-soft belly until he gets to the mound, rubbing the soft skin there and applying a little pressure. He leaves it at that for now- figuring that he would set aside an entire day for figuring out all the intricacies that come along with being a person with a pussy. Which also means he’ll have to learn how to masturbate- which sends an excited spark of heat into his stomach.

 

He looks up at his own eyes again before turning around and looking over his shoulder, staring at the ample, softness of his ass. He turns around and takes a final glance at himself, and can’t help but allow a small smile to fall onto his lips.

 

Because 1: he makes a super hot girl.

 

And he realizes number 2 as he takes several deep breaths and tries to think of why exactly he isn’t freaking out about his dick being gone anymore, about why he feels like he can breathe easier now. And it comes to his mind pretty quickly.

 

He finally feels _right_.

 

***

 

Things progress pretty fast after that- he tells Scott to calm down and stop freaking out because _he_ is the one who lost his dick and if he isn’t freaking out, neither should Scott be.

 

His father, bless that dear man’s heart, just looks at him with a worried smile when he comes down the stairs and gives him a hug, odd because now Stiles is even shorter than he is now, but Stiles constantly assures him that they’ll figure it out. His dad says that even if they don’t, Stiles is still his son- or daughter, now- and he’ll love him- or her- just the same, except now he has even more validation to shoot any boys that come chasing after him.

 

Lydia comes by the day after he wakes up, immediately sizing him up, and a positive judgment is passed when she says “You make a good chick, Stilinski.” She starts to wax poetic about make-up and dresses and lacy panties and heels, and she takes them out shopping at her own expense, and he knows that’s her way of thanking him for saving her. She tries to push frilly, lacy, colorful things on him, short skirts and slouchy sweaters and lacy panties and peplum dresses- whatever the fuck those are- but he gratefully refuses. However right he may feel in this female body, he’s not sure he’s quite ready for that yet.

 

She looks a little sad when he opts to get his regular jeans, a few T-shirts and of course, bras (Lydia expertly informs him that he’s a 35C now) and underwear. And since he’s not completely against the idea of makeup and he wants to appease Lydia and thank her for all she’s done, he relents to get some mascara and what Lydia cheerily says is a lip stain.

 

She takes him to get tampons and pads- stating that they’re not sure how long this will last and they don’t even know if the spell turned him into a biologically accurate female, but it’s better safe than sorry. He quickly decides on pads because he’s not confident on sticking _anything_ up there until he’s had more practice. She also takes him to buy actual, separate, shampoo and conditioner, instead of the 2-in-1 that she says only boys buy. She starts playing with the idea of Stiles’ hair and by that time he has to refuse, because it’s late and he’s perfectly fine with keeping it in a ponytail if things get too crazy.

 

She smiles at that, and when she has finally driven him home and they’re sitting outside in the car, she starts to cry and thanks him profusely for what he did. He tries to calm her down- tell her that it’s not that big of a deal, that he will always try to save her, no matter what, and that being a girl isn’t a bad thing. After she finishes crying she laughs and says, “You’re damn right it’s not a bad thing, Stilinski. And don’t let any man with a light switch for a dick tell you differently.”

 

***

 

A few days after that, he calls Scott and tells the pack and his dad that he needs to take some times to himself to figure things out while Deaton researches the spell and possible cures. 

 

The first thing he thinks about is the whole fucking situation- about how he had, by some weird stroke of luck (or stupidity) ended up in the sex he more strongly identified with. He knows he’s lucky- plenty of people feel the way he did and live lives ostracized because of it, in pain and having to spend millions of dollars to feel like they are valid and worth it. He thinks about how shitty the world is, about how crazy amazing it is that this happened to him.

 

Then, he thinks about his pronouns. It’s been a little confusing having his close friends and family unsure of what to call him. He still thinks of himself as a ‘he’, just because he always has, and he has no problem with that- but after a few awkward mishaps he has no problem with responding to ‘she’ or ‘Ma’am’ either. He makes a decision that his friends and family can continue referring to him as ‘he’, but in new relationships he’ll introduce himself as a girl.

 

Then, he looks at himself in the mirror again and looks at all his female glory, and he likes it. He _really_ does. He likes the soft curves of his body, his breasts, his lips, his slender arms and legs. This feels right compared to what he felt before, which was nothing but a discord between what he wanted and what he was.

 

He goes out to buy a hand mirror and locks himself in the bathroom with the single-minded goal of getting acquainted with his new equipment. He spreads himself apart and looks at his pink insides, the rubbing his fingers softly against his folds, finding himself shivering with it. He does that for a few moments, sighing with the sensation, and feels his fingers coming away with his own wetness- an event that blows his mind. He finds his clit and rubs himself, flicking his thumb over it occasionally, and quickly decides that the bathroom is not the best place for this to happen.

 

His libido starts coming back- he starts having fevered dreams of muscled bodies and slick mouths, fingers slipping inside of him and hands grabbing his hair, soft lips suckling on his breasts. And because he feels justified that it has been entirely too long since his last orgasm, and because he is Stiles, he sits down to research female masturbation for a good few hours, lost in the fascinating world that he’s only recently been introduced to.

 

His research culminates to his dark room lit unevenly by a few flickering candles, the soft lilt of slow jazz coming from his computer. He thinks that this actually sets a really nice mood for an evening of sexual self-discovery- because Stiles Stilinski is nothing if not thorough in practical application of his research.

 

So he lays himself on his bed, fresh out of the shower, and takes a deep breath before he starts to allow his mind to wander. His hands follow his thoughts as his fingers fall over his skin like ocean tides, starting with the soft skin of his belly before one comes to cup his own breast, squeezing softly and massaging soft gasps from his lips.

 

He imagines that those hands belong to Boyd, his strong grip scaled back as he takes his fill and touches her where he wants, and when she begins to pinch her nipples her fingers become Derek’s lips, teeth grazing softly over them before he soothes them with his tongue and mouth, making her arch into his motions. And she’s vaguely aware that she’s begun to think of herself as a ‘her’ now, but figures it ultimately doesn’t matter, as she can feel herself getting wet now, a throbbing pulsating from between her legs.

 

She moans in want, but is determined to warm herself up, make herself desperate for it. She lets the soft skin of her palm stroke down her body until she gets to her inner thigh, where she strokes the skin there ever so gently with her nail, a flowery sensation of pleasure blooming from her skin- and that’s Scott, Scott’s mouth kissing every so slightly on her thighs, so near where she wants it most but not giving it to her. Her breaths are coming faster now, heart beating rapidly as she squirms as her body flushes in sensation.

 

She can feel her hips rolling minutely as she lets a hand drag up from her thighs to her throat, and she lets two fingers trail up the hollow of her neck and slip past her lips and into the warmth of her mouth, where her tongue wrestles between them- and maybe these fingers belong to Jackson, as he pushes them in and out of her mouth and swirls them over her tongue, and she groans with it, beginning to suck on them and push them even further in.

 

She can feel herself clenching now, she’s wet and her skin is so warm and she has a _need_ down there, similar to the one before she changed, but this is so much deeper, and it seems so much more accessible.

 

She brings her wet fingers to brush against her nipples and she whines with it, letting soft pleas flow from her lips and into the emptiness of her room. Finally, she allows her hand to travel down between her legs and she moans when she feels how wet she is, brushing her fingers over the lips and spreads herself to trace against the folds. She moans between the fingers she has in her mouth as she teases her clit, rubbing it slow and steady, teasingly, before it gets to be too much.

 

Soon enough a litany of soft whimpers is leaving her lips as she pleases herself, but it’s not enough. She finds her entrance through probing feels and starts with one finger, pushing in slowly and steadily, feeling the warm, smooth walls of her insides for the first time. She gasps as is goes a little deeper- she had read that if she wasn’t properly aroused it could hurt- but this doesn’t, at least not yet. She pushes in as far as she would dare and shudders with it before pulling the digit out and back in, and a burst of sensation explodes behind her closed eyelids. She does it again and again, sucking harshly on the fingers in her mouth and she keens with the pleasure.

 

She dares to add another digit soon and then she’s going too fast- it hurts now, the pain diluting the pleasure- but it feels too good to stop as she rapidly buries her fingers within herself. This, _this_ is what she was missing before, this sense of being filled, wet and open and ready to take. In a moment of clarity she begins crooking her digits, moaning as she scissors herself while looking for the famous spot.

 

She screams when she hits it.

 

She adjusts every thrust to touch that one spot now, a wet, sloppy sound coming from between her thighs as she lets her thumb flick over her clit and she’s so fucking close to exploding, so close to getting what she wants. She’s sucking on her own fingers like her life depends on it, rolling into the thrust of her other hand, mindlessly searching for completion.

 

She finds it a few moments later, when she feels something inside of her snap and all of a sudden pleasure is all she knows and all she has ever known. She feels herself clench around her fingers, and she absolutely spasms as she shakes with the pleasure of it, it washes over her and she moans through it as it runs through her veins, her hips stuttering as she rides herself through the waves of it. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it was basically proven that women have better orgasms, but _God_.

 

That was _life changing_.

 

When it’s all said and done, he feels loose and happy. Her fingers are kinda pruny from her sucking, and his other hand is still pretty wet, but he feels weightless and he laughs with it. He takes a few deep breaths and decides that losing a dick is most definitely worth it if he can have orgasms like this.

 

***

 

The next day he does it again, minus the candles, and this time he shoots for the whole multiple orgasm deal, just to see what it’s like.

 

He has five.

 

One after another, the tail end of one spiraling into the beginning of another, and he screams into the pillow he makes himself bite into.

 

He nearly passes out.

 

***

 

He plays with the make-up he got and decides that he likes the way that mascara makes his eyes seem even bigger and the way the lip stain tinges his lips a deep red against his pale skin. He decides he likes this- looking done-up and sexy.

 

He’s not ready for the whole nine-yards of being a girl thing yet. Maybe he never will be. But he thinks it’s definitely worth a try.

 

***

 

 

He calls Scott on the third day of his absence to let him know that everything’s alright, leaving out the part on where he has succeeded in giving himself multiple orgasms. They arrange a pack hang-out before they go to Deaton’s to see what he’s learned, and on that day he grabs the bra that makes his boobs look the best (he should have followed Lydia’s suggestion, _dammit_ ) and a shirt that ends just above his bellybutton. He wears his best skinny jeans and puts on his mascara and lip stain. He puts his hair in a ponytail because he still isn’t quite sure what to do with it.

 

When he sees himself in the mirror he smiles. He’s all pouty red lips and big, dewy brown eyes. His moles are still there and he’s thankful because he’s actually always liked them. The bra makes his boobs look great and the shirt drapes over them just right, showing a little midriff. The jeans hug his curves perfectly and all-in-all he would _definitely_ fuck himself if that was possible.

And he’s been thinking- scheming more like. His desires haven’t settled, he still wants it. Them. The pack. And this makes things indefinitely easier.

 

He decides he’ll start with Scott.

 

***

 

Everyone is already there when he arrives. He walks in, confident in his new body, and it’s obvious.

 

He smirks to himself when he sees their eyes bulge- none of them have seen him since the accident, except Scott- and their gazes trail down his form, nostrils flaring.

 

Derek looks like he just got punched in the balls. Jackson looks angry that he’s attracted to _Stiles_ of all people. Boyd has the decency to look genuinely surprised. Scott’s jaw hit the floor almost immediately, and Stiles could tell he tried to reel himself back in, but he could see his best friend’s eyes linger on his neck, his breasts, the skin of his tummy that’s peeking out.

 

He can’t help but feeling that this is the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

 

***

 

As it turns out, Deaton can’t find anything for the spell quite yet. He says that it’s difficult to parse through because it seems as if the spell was made up at the last second- tainted with unknown words in the midst of the witch’s panic. He’s not sure it will wear off, or if it does how long it will take. He apologizes profusely and promises to work harder.

 

Stiles tells him and the pack that it’s fine and pretends to be upset by the information.

 

***

 

It takes time. He figured it would when he started planning- Scott is much too loyal a friend to step into this territory without hesitation, and that’s why Stiles makes it subtle.

 

He increases the physical contact. Whenever Scott makes a joke Stiles laughs and softly places his hand on Scott’s chest or bicep or leg if they’re sitting, and he watches as Scott’s initial smiles at the touch immediately turn into confusion as to why he’s enjoying it. He leans in and presses close to Scott constantly, which is something they did before the accident- and it was fine because they were bros- but now it’s different. For the both of them.

 

He feels bad because he knows Scott doesn’t want to call him out on it- they’ve been friends for so long, touching each other came with the territory- but, like previously said, Scott isn’t dumb. He can tell it’s different now. And that’s good- that’s how Stiles wants it. So when he hugs Scott, leans in and wraps his arms around his neck and presses his breasts into Scott’s chest, he tries to make it a little awkward. He makes tons of sexual innuendos, as they usually do, but charges them with extra sexual energy.

 

When he leans in to whisper something into Scott’s ear, he makes it seem like the brush of his lips against the outer shell is an accident, makes it seem like the way he sort of nuzzles into his neck is because he’s trying to be extra quiet.

 

And slowly, the sexual tension between them rises. He watches as Scott stares at him more and more unreservedly. As he excuses himself when Stiles pushes a little too far and causes an unexpected boner that Scott has to pretend is just his need to pee. As Scott responds to his touches with slight touches of his own: a hand on the small of his back, a slight brush against his breasts. Stiles isn’t sure Scott’s aware that he’s doing it, probably not, but it’s a good sign.

 

***

 

It finally happens when they’re over at Scott’s one night. They’re in his room playing video games, and it’s a warm night out. Stiles makes an excuse that he’s getting to hot and throws off his shirt before Scott could actually say anything, leaving him in just his bra. And Scott’s eyes follow his breasts as they bounce whenever he moves too much. From then on it’s just a waiting game.

 

Stiles is doing his usual gloating when he wins another round of Mario Kart and Scott laughs and nudges him until he falls over, and Stiles brings Scott with him.

 

For a few seconds Scott just lays over him, eyes full of horror and lust and surprise.

 

“Dude!” he says, trying to push away, but Stiles doesn’t let him. “I’m sorry, I just- I didn’t mea-“

 

Stiles laughs. “Calm down, Scotty. It’s fine.”

 

“I really shouldn’t have to-“

 

“Dude, just kiss me. Now.”

 

Scott has the manners to look abashed for a few seconds before he dives down and places his lips on Stiles’ own.

 

Soon enough Scott’s mouth is tangled in hers, their tongues slick and wet, sliding over each other as they kiss. Scott pulls away and starts placing kisses on his jaw, peppering them down her neck and kissing her collarbone. Stiles moans and roots her fingers into Scott’s hair, bringing Scott back up to kiss him more, because _damn_ her best friend can kiss. One of his hands comes up to tug at Stiles’ hair, making her groan. She’s wet now, she can feel it, her hips making miniscule thrusting motions.

 

“Wanted you so bad.” Scott says between kisses, his hands coming up to roam against her sides. “Felt so bad about wanting you, but you were always touching me and shit, always so pretty and saying the nastiest stuff.”

 

Stiles laughs as Scott sucks on his tongue. “Did I make you hard, Scotty, huh?”

 

Scott groans and licks up Stiles’ neck. “Jerked off so many times to the thought of you.”

 

“Yeah? What’d you think about?”

 

Scott pushes up at that, supporting himself with his hands and looking down at Stiles, serious. “What do I have permission to do?”

 

Stiles shivers. “Anything and everything. Fuckin’ blanket statement dude, whatever you want.”

 

Scott looks at him with wide eyes. “Even-“

 

“Hell yes, Scott! I’d love to give it up to my best friend, man. I trust you.”

 

An emotion very similar to love fills Scott’s eyes as he smiles. “You’re great, Stiles.”

 

“Yeah, you too dude, now c’mon, show me everything you know.”

 

Scott chuckles and winks before he’s back in, and this time he’s not holding back. He’s sucking on Stiles’ neck and kissing his collarbone. He buries his face in the space between her breasts before he licks there, sucking hard and bringing Stiles’ legs to wrap around his waist.

 

“Scott, dude, _fuck_ -“

 

“You smell wet,” Scott says, growling- and his wolf must be coming to the surface. “Smell like you want it so bad.”

 

“God, you have _no_ idea.”

 

Scott’s hands go behind her back and after a moment her bra is off and his tits are free. Scott cups them in his hands and squeezes softly and she keens at that because it feels _so_ different when it’s someone else. His thumbs rub softly over her nipples while he kisses and sucks at the soft flesh around them, massaging them in his hands.

 

She’s desperate now, but Scott has deigned to give her a leg to grind against even as he grinds against her, and she’s rubbing so hard, her cunt is wet and clenching and she needs something inside of her.

 

Finally his lips meet her nipples and he sucks, laving his tongue over it as he does so. She can’t help but moan loudly, grabbing his head and forcing him to suck more, teeth grazing slightly over her nipple.

 

“God, Scott that feels so fucking good,” She says, arching into his mouth. He gives a hard suck before he relents and moves his mouth onto her other breast, suckling loud and hungrily, mouth wet and shiny with saliva. Soft rumbles are radiating from his chest and she can feel his cock through his jeans where he’s grinding against her.

 

And for a second that’s great and all, but she needs something else now. She’s soaking the skin between her thighs, and she _needs_.

 

“C’mon Scotty, as much as I love my tits, there are greener grasses,” she says through heavy breaths.

 

Scott lifts up and smiles, kissing each nipple before kissing her lips. He proceeds to lick his way down her throat, between her breasts, until he gets to her belly button, where he bites at the skin and dips his tongue in. He noses down until he meets her jeans  but he doesn’t move to open them, instead his trails down and quickly grabs her behind her knees and pushes them up so he can nose at the dampness between her thighs.

 

“Oh _god_ ,” Stiles says when she realizes he’s _scenting_ her. Scott takes large, gulping breaths at her cunt, and then she spasms when he flicks out a tongue and presses it there.  She’s too incoherent to do anything but moan as he laps at her through her jeans, moaning as he does.

 

“Your pussy tastes so good, baby,” Scott says, and Stiles bites her lips. “You’re soaking through these, so fucking horny for my cock.”

 

She lets out a sound that she hopes is interpreted as _move the fuck on, Scott_ , and thankfully he gets the message because he unbuttons her jeans and pulls them off along with her underwear in one fell swoop.

 

And then there she is. Naked, wet, and horny on Scott’s floor.

Scott eyes her pussy for a second, taking in the wet skin there. His nostrils flare and he looks up at Stiles with a grin.

 

“You planned this, didn’t you?” He asks, voice horse. “You little shit.”

 

Stiles smiles. “C’mon Scott, you can’t blame me for wanting to try out the new equipment.” She eyes him and frowns. “Also, I can’t be the only naked one in this situation dude. Unfair.”

 

She uses her hands to push herself up and tugs at the hem of his shirt. He pulls it off, and the second he’s shirtless she’s running her hands over his body, admiring his form. He puts both of his hands on her face and holds her still as he kisses her deep, tongue stroking in her mouth.

 

“Never thought I’d be fucking my best friend,” Scott says, grabbing one of her tits and rubbing the nipple between his fingers. She let out a shaky breath and dove after his tongue, sucking it hard.

 

“Really? You couldn’t smell me? Before the witch?” He palms Scott’s crotch and brushes his fingers along the hardness there. She’s no stranger to what Scott’s dick looks like- they were bros before this and on the lacrosse team, of course they’ve been naked around each other. But still, this situation is new.

 

“I had wondered what that was,” Scott said, kissing her neck and grinding into her hand. “I’m not used to smelling male arousal directed towards me. When girls are horny it smells different. After you changed- it was obvious then. Took some getting used to, but- ya know.”

 

Scott’s hand traveled down to her cunt, and he palms it slightly, with the lightest of friction. She groans into it.

 

“Once my libido came back I couldn’t stop putting my fingers in there, once I figured out how to do it,” Stiles admits, unbuttoning Scott’s jeans and slipping her hand under his underwear, taking hold the cock he found within. Scott gasped and rolled into the touch. “Felt so good. You should have seen it Scott- girl orgasms are an entirely different _world_.”

 

Scott moans when Stiles rubs his thumb over the head. He returns the gesture as he finds Stiles’ clit and rubs it with his fingers. She takes in a shocked breath and shakes as he continues the assault.

 

He doesn’t stop. She’s gasping and moaning and he tugs her hair and kisses her, his hot mouth ravaging her own. She’s whispering his name over and over as he continue, pouring the litany of moans into his mouth.

“Scott, Scott, fuck, Scott, _please_ \- I-“ Scott responds with another kiss as he rapidly stimulates her. His hands are rougher and more callused than hers, and their rough and hard against her pussy and it’s _fantastic_.

 

She can feel it about to happen, it starts low within her and spirals up and out until it breaks and she’s coming, body shaking in Scott’s hold as he kisses her through it. She can feel the pleasure flower and bloom on her skin and in her mind, and her eyes close as she torn between leaning into his touch for more and back away for relief. She tries to breathe through it and she clenches and curls into it, whining with pleasure as it robs her of breath. He doesn’t let up on her clit, rubbing her all the while, and he’s dragging her through another orgasm just as the first one ends.

 

“I’m gonna- Scott, no, wait, I’m gonna-“

 

It happens again, and this time Scott slips a finger inside of her and it’s too much. He’s whispering in her ear about how wet she is, about how good it’s gonna feel to be up inside her, stretching her cunt around his cock for the first time.

 

Eventually the pleasure subsides and she’s being hefted up and then layed down onto his bed. She opens her eyes and looks at him and he’s taken off his jeans, thick cock hard and swinging between his legs and all of a sudden she wants more, still wants to be split open.

 

“I wanna eat you out,” Scott breathes heavily, going to his nightstand and searching through a junky drawer. “And I wanna finger you until you scream, but I can’t wait, and from the looks of it neither can you.” He plucks out a condom from the mess and rips it open, stroking his dick a few times before pulling it on.

 

Stiles in the meantime, has her eyes glued to Scott’s cock. It’s thick, a little longer than average, blushing a pretty red. His balls hang lower and she wants to put her mouth on them, wants to roll them around on her tongue and suck on his cock. She’s fingering herself now, wanting something inside of her.

 

“We’re gonna fuck, and when we wake up I’ll teach you to suck cock and I’ll lick your pussy and we might fuck again if we’re up to it and we’ll just have a bunch more orgasms, cool?”

 

Stiles chuckled because Scott looks super hot with his doofy smile on and his cock rock hard between his thighs, eyes flashing his beta yellow, a hint of his fangs out. “Yeah, bro, come on.”

 

Scott leans down and kisses him thoroughly once more, hand squeezing his breasts before his moves his mouth to a nipple and gives it a soft suck. He maneuvers himself between her legs before dropping to give her a soft kiss.

“Thank you for giving me this, Stiles,” He says, nuzzling her cheek. “In the future, whenever you wanna fuck, let me know dude. I’ll always be down for fucking you.”

 

Stiles’ heart melts but she laughs. “Yeah, no problem man, now fuck me.”

 

“We’re gonna go slow, okay?”

 

“Slow?” She says, frowning. “No, see-“

 

“ _Slow_ , Stiles.” Scott says, grinning. “I want your first time to be good, okay? Trust me, slow isn’t nearly as bad as it seems.”

 

Stiles rolls her eyes and he slaps her ass for it before spreading her legs and looking at her. “Ready?”

 

“Do you see how wet I am, dude?” She asks. Scott deadpans. She huffs. “Yeah, Scott, I’m ready. Give it to me.”

 

He grabs the base of his cock and lines up, and there’s the blunt pressure that already promises good things. She takes a shaky breath and leans back, trying to relax.  Slowly, he pushes in, his mouth right next to her ear, giving her soft kisses and whispering about how good she is, how wet her pussy is right now, how smooth and hot and clenching her cunt feels.

 

And then he’s all the way in and _finally_ Stiles can feel her pussy clamping down around something solid and warm and real and it feels _good_ to have him inside, filling her up and stretching her out. Just like she’s always wanted. He’s kissing her now, tongue tracing her lips and her mouth as his hands rub up and down her sides, occasionally massaging her breasts and flicking at her clit.

 

She experiments with small rolls of her hips in a circular motion and that brings sparks to her eyes, to feel him moving inside of her with such strength, his cock hitting her walls and stretching her so completely.

 

She gives him a kiss and wraps her arms around his neck.

 

“I’m good Scott. Go.”

 

And Scott does.

 

And he keeps to his word. He rocks in slowly, not agonizingly slow, but a good pace. He drags out until just the tip of his dick is in and then drives forward, making her empty and then filling her up again. He does a little twist with every thrust and she’s going absolutely crazy with how it feels.

 

She can’t be much help in her state- back arched and head back, hands tight in Scott’s hair as he fucks her so good. It’s- it’s indescribable how good this feels. How _this_ is what she’s always wanted, how it feels so right to be filled up like this, how right it feels to be touched in every single place Scott’s dick is touching her. She’s wet and open and clenching around him and she can do nothing but gasp in the pleasure.

 

Scott kisses her through it, groaning with his own pleasure, biting her neck and licking her mouth open, asking questions like _Doesn’t it feel good, baby?_ And _You’re so good, Stiles, this is what you wanted, huh? Let me make you feel good, Stiles, I want to so bad._

 

One of his hands is permanently on her clit, rubbing softly along with his thrusts. Her ankles are on the small of his back and his weight is almost completely on her, but it feels good, being covered so completely like this by his best friend.

 

She whines with it all, overwhelmed by the pleasure and Scott kisses her through it, makes her eyes roll back as his thrusts get deeper and the hand on his clit gets wilder.

He starts saying shit like _Wanna make you come Stiles, wanna feel you clench my dick while it’s inside you_ and _You’re so fucking wet, babe, so good, such a good pussy for my cock_. And she has no idea where Scott got this mouth of his but she loves it.

 

He finds her g-spot on one of his thrusts when she cries out and keens particularly strong. Then, he adjusts every time to get to it. It’s only a matter of time then.

 

His hips aren’t going as slow as before, but still not at a fast pace. The hand on her clit is working furiously and he's digging deep inside her with his dick, pushing in and in and _in_ and Stiles never wants it to stop because her hips are meeting Scott’s thrusts now and it feels so _good_ to be fucked.

 

Scott notices when she’s close and works particularly hard on her clit, kissing her and keeping his tongue in her mouth to swallow her sounds. His thrusts become more meaningful and he’s searching for it now, searching for her orgasm and she can feel it being pulled from her. The dual sensations from her clit and cunt are doubling over and multiplying and it builds until when he pinches one of her nipples she groans and grinds on his cock and comes, colors bursting behind her lids and her breath leaving her as she clenches around his cock. Scott keeps thrusting, his hands keeps rubbing and he’s whispering in her ear to _do it again baby, come on, I wanna make you come again_ and for the love of god she _does_.

 

The pleasure wracks her with it’s intensity as another orgasm starts up, her legs are shaking and so are her arms and she’s holding tight to Scott as he keeps fucking her soft and hard, dragging these feelings from her so insanely well. He’s sucking on her nipple when her second orgasm is on its tail end and he looks up at her and says _one more, Stiles, just one more, please? You’re gorgeous when you cum and it just feels so good, baby_ and even while he’s asking he’s working towards giving her another one, bouncing off of the second and with his hand working furiously at her, his thrusts quickly become deep and pleasurable, and he sucks her tits like they were made for him and all of a sudden a third one is washing over her and she is _completely_ incoherent, riding the pleasure that Scott is giving her.

 

Scott kisses her and his thrusts become erratic and then he stills with a _Stiles, baby, Stiles you feel so fucking good, such a good pussy_ and she can feel him coming while she is in the middle of her own orgasm as he shudders but remembers that he’s wearing a rubber when she doesn’t feel his come burst inside of her. He gives a last few soft thrusts before he collapses on her and nuzzles her neck, kissing the sweaty skin there.

 

“Stiles, dude, you’re so fucking awesome and gorgeous. God, this may be the best thing to ever happen to our friendship.”

 

Stiles chuckles because he’s still not completely coherent, but soon Scott rolls off and takes a few deep breaths before getting up to presumably throw away the condom. Stiles just lays there while he does, smiling because that was the most incredible thing he’s ever felt, and it happened with _Scott_.

 

Scott turns on the fan and turns off the lamp before he comes back to bed, and Stiles accepts it when Scott maneuvers him until they’re under the covers. Stiles turns around and kisses Scott soft and deep, running his hands through his hair as Scott’s hands run down his sweaty back and over his ass.

 

“You’re an awesome friend dude. Grade A. Plus, you’re also a fantastic fuck, so thank you for the mind blowing orgasms.”

 

There’s moonlight filtering in from the window in front of Scott’s bed and he can see Scott goofy smile in the light. “Your pussy is top quality, man.” Scott leans up and gives him a kiss, squeezing one of his breasts lightly. “Thank you for letting me fuck you. We should do it again sometime. Often. And I was serious, you’re really pretty. You also look super hot when you come.”

 

Stiles smiles. “Thanks, Scotty.” He turns around and lets Scott spoon him from behind, Scott’s breath soft against his ear.

 

“And I was also serious about waking up and eating you out and you sucking me off. I think orgasms should be a new thing in this friendship.”

 

“Agreed,” Stiles says, grabbing one of Scott’s hands to wrap around her until he cuddles in closer and said hand moves up to rest on one of his breasts. Stiles yawns. “Now go to sleep.”

 

“G’night.” Scott says, and places a quick kiss to the back of his neck.

 

“Night, Scotty.”

 

***

 

They wake up six hours later and Scott proceeds to tongue his pussy until he comes.

 

Stiles sucks on Scott’s balls and slips Scott’s cock into his mouth to suck on it, relishing in the flavor and the size and the taste and the feel, and Scott teaches him just how to wrap his lips and use his tongue until he comes and Stiles swallows down every drop. He likes the flavor.

 

They fuck again. Twice more, equaling a total of 5 orgasms for Stiles and 3 for Scott. They take a shower together where Scott fingers him again until he comes, and he blows Scott and lets him come on his face.

 

They make out before Stiles leaves to go home, tongues dragging and bodies rubbing against each other.

 

He told Scott of his plan. And being the great friend that he is, he’s all for it as long as he’s safe.

 

On his drive home, he decides that Boyd is next.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
